


To Love Summer Once Again

by rinnenotsubasa



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Dealing With Loss, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22212142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinnenotsubasa/pseuds/rinnenotsubasa
Summary: Chan was a catcher for his high school baseball team who had secretly lost his passion for the sport after an incident two summers ago.A story of three best friends: Chan, Seungkwan, and Mingyu.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Lee Chan | Dino, Kim Mingyu & Lee Chan | Dino, Lee Chan | Dino & Boo Seungkwan & Kim Mingyu
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	To Love Summer Once Again

**Author's Note:**

> I was talking with [bluemoonhui](https://twitter.com/bluemoonhui/) about baseball, it was all fun and fluff, and yet my brain responded by creating this kinda (?) angsty story. I don’t understand how my own brain works.
> 
> Also inspired by Cross Game. I haven’t read the original manga by Adachi Mitsuru, but I watched the anime. The plot and characters are different, but if you’ve read/watched Cross Game you might know why I say it influenced this fic.

It was getting hotter, he could feel it beyond his deep blue blazer, and Lee Chan didn't like it. The warming atmosphere was a gentle reminder of the upcoming season, the time Chan hated the most in a year. 

Although Chan was stubborn enough to keep his blazer on, next to him Boo Seungkwan was walking only in long-sleeved white shirt. The fellow sophomore had his blazer, the same color as Chan's, hanging on his right lower arm. The blazer's arms flapped around as Seungkwan walked.

Chan shifted his gaze to the left, taking in the sight of his best friend as sunset ray shone over his face. Warmth filled Chan and it was not from the pre-summer air.

When Seungkwan looked like he was about to turn his head, Chan turned off the valve inside his heart to stop the surging emotions. So when their gaze met, Chan was back to be Seungkwan’s childhood friend, neighbor, and fellow second year student of Pledis High School. Just those and nothing more.

“Wanna play?” Seungkwan said to him with sparkling eyes. Those orbs were so beautiful, the valve inside Chan’s heart squeaked slightly. But Chan kept it shut off.

“Huh?”

“I haven’t played in a long time. Come on.”

With a small giggle, Seungkwan turned on his heels and walked to his left, heading down to the riverbank. Sighing, but could not suppress a smile, Chan followed his best friend stepping away from the concrete and onto the grass.

Once they arrived below, Seungkwan took some distance between them and stood waiting. Chan shook his head a few times, amused both at his best friend’s randomness and his own inability to say no to that. He reached into his sling bag and took out a baseball, the one he always had with him, a gift from his mother when he was 5 years old. Unlike his father who had zero interest in sports, his mother was such a huge baseball fan and didn’t miss giving her children baseball-related stuff with the hope of turning them into fellow fans. She didn’t get any luck with Chan’s little brother, but ecstatic to find Chan growing an interest. The joy on her face when Chan said he’s joining the junior league in elementary school was unforgettable.

But to be honest, it wasn’t his mother’s “brainwashing tricks” that did it for Chan. His love for baseball truly began because of--

Chan shook his head, stopping the train of thought. It still hurt and he’s not strong enough to deal with it. 

Trying to distract himself, Chan put his focus to the ball in his hand and threw it to Seungkwan, who caught it perfectly. Then Chan reached into his bag once again, this time pulling out a baseball glove. He put it on while Seungkwan moved his arm around in a stretch, getting ready.

Once Chan bent his knees and got in position, Seungkwan lifted his left leg. Like everything Seungkwan, the posture was beautiful. Even though he’s not a member of the baseball club, Seungkwan could throw a ball better than most of Chan’s juniors. Spending childhood and growing up with baseball players had trained him, and Seungkwan himself had interest in the game. It’s just that his passion for singing and acting was bigger, so he chose to dive into the theater world instead.

The ball hit Chan’s mitt with a satisfying sound. It reminded Chan that the sound was once his lullaby, that baseball had been his living dream.

Across him, Seungkwan stood with a smug, his plump cheeks perking up. Chan wanted nothing more than to pinch those cheeks, but he stayed at his position and spoke instead.

“Still got the skills, I see.” Chan could give better praises to his juniors at the club, but with Seungkwan, he’s never straightforward. It’s just how they talk. It had always been like that since he could remember.

“Of course.” Seungkwan seemed to be pleased with that. It made Chan smile, but Seungkwan’s next words made the edges of his lips going back down.

“I’m not as good as Mingyu, but I can beat those first years at your club.”

 _Mingyu_. The tall boy who had lived right in the middle of Chan and Seungkwan’s house since they were all 5 years old. The pitcher who had formed a battery with Chan for most of Chan’s baseball history. The clumsy kid who had always made Chan and Seungkwan laugh with his absurd episodes of accidents and misfortunes. Their bestest best friend in the whole world.

The boy who died at 15 during baseball practice two summers ago due to undetected Hypertrophic Cardiac Myopathy.

It was as if there’s an invisible hand squeezing Chan’s heart. It hurt. He wondered if it was how Mingyu felt that day on the mound before falling down. It hurt even more.

It seemed that Seungkwan noticed the change in Chan’s emotions. Their distance was close enough for Chan to see a flicker of concern in Seungkwan’s eyes. Despite his gaze, Seungkwan kept smiling and urged Chan to throw the ball back to him. Chan obeyed because it was better than doing nothing and letting the pain engulf him.

They stopped when the sun finally set, returning to the concrete road and walking side by side. Neither said a word for a while. 

It was when they arrived at the bus station that Seungkwan said, “I miss him too, you know.” 

Chan listened but he didn’t turn his head. He felt Seungkwan’s gaze and kept his face looking forward to the street.

“That’s why I talk about him,” Seungkwan continued. “If we stop talking about him… If we forget…”

There’s a hint of sadness in Seungkwan’s voice. Chan didn’t want to listen, but he did.

“...then he’ll really be gone.”

*****

Chan was on the field. He was in his full uniform and gears, the rival team’s batter standing in front of him. Beyond the batter was Chan’s teammate, a fellow sophomore and pitcher who had been Chan’s partner for the past year. They were in a game. It was no practice game, but an official match in the Grand Phoenix Flag Tournament. The stadium was loaded, and the air was filled with both excitement and tension. It was the game that would decide which team could go to the national round.

And yet Chan was feeling empty. No nervousness, no anticipation. Just nothing.

No one knew, but it had been quite some time since he felt like that. Two years to be exact. Since two summers ago, his love for baseball had gone cold. But he could not leave the sport. There were too many people expecting him to continue: his mother, his coach, his friends. 

And most importantly, Mingyu’s parents.

He could still remember with vivid detail; the leftover tears under the swollen eyes of Mingyu’s mother, the croak in the voice of Mingyu’s father. _Take him to Nationals_ , they said. _You getting your dream means he does too_ , they said. 

They didn’t know that it was no longer Chan’s dream. But it was their son’s, and Chan couldn’t throw it away.

Chan’s teammate got into pose and threw the ball. It hit Chan’s mitt. Once, twice. The moment that the third throw landed in Chan’s glove, the audience behind him roared. His teammates ran from all corners of the field and from the bleachers behind, rushing towards their pitcher and throwing their bodies over each other into a messy, celebratory hug. They won. They’re going to the Nationals.

Chan was still feeling empty.

***

There was nothing out of ordinary that day. Well, the one thing that’s different was that there were no practice for Chan. Coach made them stay out of the field after last match so they could rest. There will be bigger and tougher games next, better be well rested, he said.

Aside from that, there wasn’t anything different. Chan was standing in the kitchen of Seungkwan’s home, like he had done many times in the past 12 years. He was helping his best friend to make dumplings. Both of Seungkwan’s older sisters went out for dates, his father went to meet some old friends in town, while his mother had to suddenly go to her aunt’s place for an emergency. Therefore Seungkwan, by the order of Mrs. Boo, must prepared the dumplings to be served for dinner. Seungkwan was very much annoyed that he had to do it alone, so he dragged Chan here to help.

They stood behind the dining table as they put the fillings into the dumpling skin, wrapping it into a neat shape. Their elbows were touching. It was no big deal. Nothing new.

And yet when they happened to turn their heads at the same time, gaze meeting with distance of a hair’s breadth, the air around them changed. Somehow it made the valve inside Chan’s heart turned on, letting feelings pouring out, gushing. Somehow it made Chan lean forward, and for some reason Seungkwan did too.

Chan could feel Seungkwan’s lips on his, just like how he imagined sometimes when he got careless and let his mind be free. It felt as amazing as in his imagination. But as with his fantasies, it didn’t last long. Chan quickly regained his reasoning and pulled back.

In front of him, Seungkwan was looking at him with confusion on his face. There was also hurt there, and Chan felt a pang of guilt, but he was convinced that stopping was the right decision.

“But I--” The usually composed Seungkwan was stuttering. “I thought--”

“We can’t.” Chan said firmly.

“Can’t?” Seungkwan frowned. “Why? Is there any law forbidding two teenagers from kissing with consent? What do you mean we can’t? You do--” The stuttering was gone and Seungkwan’s confused voice was now colored with irritation.

Chan cut his words short. “I let him die.” The sentence came out of his lips sounding angry. The anger was not meant for Seungkwan. “I can’t steal his lover too.”

For a second, Seungkwan’s annoyance left his expression completely. There was only confusion when he said, “Mingyu was sick.”

“I knew he was having dizziness and shortness of breath.” Chan paused for moment. It was not easy to confess what he had kept a secret for two years. “I knew it… and said _nothing_.” The last word came out with a tremble.

It didn’t take Seungkwan another beat to respond. “But he also didn’t say anything.” Seungkwan’s gaze was sure. “He probably thought it was nothing and brushed it off. And he must’ve told you that.” Bingo. Seungkwan really understood his best friends well. But that didn’t stop Chan from feeling guilty.

“But I should’ve told him to get checked. I could’ve--”

“STOP.” Seungkwan raised his volume without yelling. “It was not your fault.” His tone was firm.

“Okay, fine, if you say so. But this--” Chan moved his right hand back and forward between him and Seungkwan. “--this _cannot_ happen, and it is my responsibility to not let it happen.”

Seungkwan’s eyebrows were once again brought together into a frown. Anger colored his cheeks in red. 

“But _you want it_ _to happen_. As much as _I_ want it to happen. This is--”

Chan raised his own voice. “But you love him!”

“YES I DID!” Seungkwan was screaming now. “I LOVED him and I will ALWAYS LOVE HIM. But he’s DEAD and I--”

Seungkwan’s words were bitter truth shoved down Chan’s throat, and Chan threw it all up.

“Don’t.”

Chan could feel the coldness in his own voice and regretted it instantly. Seungkwan didn’t deserve it. Seungkwan deserved all the good in the world. Not this.

After one last look at Seungkwan’s heartbroken expression, Chan left the house.

***

The fight made Chan and Seungkwan distant. It was very much obvious to the people around them, as they suddenly stopped talking after years of being stuck to each other. Seungkwan did try to approach Chan a few times and Chan always avoided him. It was coward of him, but Chan felt powerless to do something about it.

It was as if _Mingyu_ was fed up with it and asked the Gods above to help. Chan thought that must be it, because there was absolutely no way that he and Seungkwan could get their pants drenched and ripped at the exact same time. This kind of weird, unlucky happenings only occurred to Kim Mingyu.

Almost two weeks after the fight, Chan was walking home from school. It had been days since he walked alone, but it didn’t seem like he’s getting used to it soon. In this particular afternoon, he happened to get almost run over by a pair of junior high schools in bikes. Yes, Chan was indeed safe from getting hit with bicycle wheels, but he lost balance when avoiding the collision and fell into a puddle of dirty water that was left by the afternoon rain earlier. On top of that, he fell with opened legs and the sudden jerk of limbs ripped his pants on the back.

He wrapped his blazer around his waist to cover the hole and most of the dirt, but he couldn’t continue walking and getting into the bus like this. So he decided to go back to school and get some change in the club room. There should be some spare clothes or uniform he could use.

He was walking through the school’s gate when he saw Seungkwan. The theater club member also had his blazer tied over his waist, and his pants were obviously dirty, not even the blazer could hide it. The two best friends blinked a few times before bursting out into laughter.

“Don’t ask,” Seungkwan said between his laugh. “And I won’t too.”

Feeling like a some burden had been lifted off his shoulders, Chan offered Seungkwan to get change of clothes from the baseball club instead. It’s closer, he said. Seungkwan’s eyes glinted with happiness as he nodded.

Seungkwan got changed into Chan’s uniform pants, while Chan took his teammate’s. They didn’t take long to change and were soon out of the club room. But in between the club room and the field, they lingered.

“Can we talk?” Seungkwan broke the silence. Chan nodded, and so they sat on a bench facing the field. 

For a while, Seungkwan opened and closed his mouth. It was rare to see the confident Seungkwan be hesitant, and Chan hated that he was the reason for it. So this time Chan told himself to be brave and fix it.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He looked into Seungkwan’s sad eyes and said with sincerity.

Seungkwan shook his head and said “Me too.” When he continued his words, he looked back into Chan’s eyes.

“I do love him… But he’s gone--” That one word came out a bit choked, and that’s when Chan realized how selfish he had been. How he was not the only one hurting.

“--and I have to keep on living.” There was desperation in Seungkwan’s voice as he said, “How can I do that if I don’t have you?”

The words were a slap to Chan’s face. They made him imagine a life without Seungkwan, and that scared him a lot. The only time he’d ever been this scared was when he saw Mingyu falling down on the mound, Mingyu’s pained expression as he clutched his chest, and when it turned into a lifeless look as his hand dropped.

He couldn’t live without Seungkwan. But he couldn’t trust himself to be just friends with Seungkwan. After all, Chan's heart wanted more, and there’s only so much he could do to deny that.

“I can’t replace him,” Chan finally said.

Seungkwan looked frustrated, but not angry. His voice was soft as he said, “I never see you that way.” With their gaze locked, Chan could feel Seungkwan’s desperation.

“Can you try see me without putting Mingyu in your sight? Can you really look at me and see how I look at you?”

Chan gulped down his doubts and fears as he took Seungkwan’s right hand in his.

“I’ll try.” He laced their fingers together. “I will.”

Seungkwan had tears in his eyes, but he was smiling. And that was okay for now.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure about putting "Major Character Death" because technically Mingyu didn't appear in any scene. But he IS a major character so I thought I should.
> 
> I got tears in my eyes when writing the kitchen scene. Every scene was emotional but at that particular moment I really felt it. Felt Chan and Seungkwan's emotions.


End file.
